


Wait, They Don't Love You Like I Love You

by zahrawrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Dean has body image issues, Drunk Castiel, I don't know how to tag that, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, body issues, kinda sad ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 01:25:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3362636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zahrawrites/pseuds/zahrawrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Castiel is a very clingy drunk. I don't know, it just kinda happened.</p><p>Title is from Maps by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. </p><p>As usual, constructive criticism and comments are always welcome.</p><p>Enjoy x</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait, They Don't Love You Like I Love You

"You promised!" Castiel shouted. His words slurred, as was expected after a few beers. "You promised my mom you would take me home!"

"Yeah and I am buddy, but you gotta work with me here a little." Dean tried. 

An 18 year old Castiel was sprawled out on his back on Lisa Braeden's front porch, pointing fingers at Dean as he tried to lift Castiel into a standing position.

"Nuh-uh." Castiel crossed his arms and then fell into a fit of giggles as he curled into himself, holding his stomach.

"Come on, Cas. Please?" Dean pleaded, realizing it was a _very_ big mistake getting Castiel drunk, especially since it was his first time, at a house party no less. Castiel began humming Metallica accompanied by vivacious hand movements. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Cas!"

"What?!" Dean received a glare in return.

"Get up, man." He said, tone softer than before, grabbing at Castiel's bicep to sit him up. The blue shirt he was wearing had unbuttoned at the neck, showing almost all of his collarbone, and the sleeves had been rolled up to the elbows. At the start of the night, it was tucked neatly into his jeans but now it was struggling to even remain on him.

"Deeeeeean!" Cas whined.

"Yeah buddy?" Dean answered, getting an arm successfully around his waist and pulling him onto his feet. Castiel leaned heavily into Dean; wrapping his arms around Dean's neck, body pressed against Dean's all the way down. He nosed into the crook of Dean's neck, closing his eyes, hot breath spilling out over tanned skin as he spoke.

"I really really like it when you wear your leather jacket." He murmured.

"That's great, Cas." Dean replied, having to drag Cas for him to use his legs.

"And you know what else, Dean?" Cas asked, refusing to budge from that one position. Instead, they swayed a little, back and forth, arms around each other.

"Yeah, Cas?" Dean said, becoming aware of how closely they were pressed together.

"A cat's penis is sharply barbed along it's shaft." He deadpanned and Dean couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"I did not know that."

"It's true. I know for a fact that the females were not consulted about that."

"No, I bet they weren't." Dean agreed. He ran a hand gently through the hair at Castiel's nape.

"You gonna walk for me?" Castiel groaned in response.

"Or am I gonna have to carry you?" Dean threatened lightly. He had successfully gotten them down the porch and a few metres away.

"Carry me." Castiel replied and before Dean had time to consider what that meant, he was wrapping his legs around Dean's hips like a spider monkey and nuzzling further into the crook of Dean's neck. Instinctively, his palms went around the underside of Cas' thighs to hold him up. It was a good thing that Castiel regularly did gymnastics and had the core strength to hold himself up otherwise they'd both be on the floor.

"Okay, this is- this is happening, okay yeah great." Dean did his best to hold Castiel, although a nearly six foot teenager wasn't exactly light. Castiel, it seemed, didn't notice Dean struggling at all; just tightened his grip and hummed into Dean's neck. Their houses weren't far from Lisa's, practically in the same neighbourhood, except for the small park dividing it. The boys had been neighbours their entire lives; a result of their parents having grown up together. As Dean checked both ways to cross the street to enter the park, Castiel squeezed and spoke into his neck.

"Never liked the park y'know." He murmured.

"Don't worry. I'll protect you from all the ghouls and the ghosts that lurk around here waitin' for pretty boys." Dean replied, laughing quietly.

"You can talk." Castiel retorted and Dean could imagine the incredulous scoff that would accompany it had Castiel not been drunk.

"Yeah I can, 'cause I think the amount of scars and scrapes I got, kinda negate the whole pretty thing."

"I don't think you own a mirror." Castiel retorted adamantly.

"Oh yeah?" Dean replied to keep him talking, he didn't want to be carrying a dead weight home if Castiel passed out. Passing the swings, he eyed up a small huddle of teenagers, assessing the likelihood of them causing trouble.

"Yeah." Castiel breathed. Dean could feel the smile against the skin under his ear.

"I mean, have you seen your eyes? Lisa said she always made you keep them open when you had sex."

While Dean was almost choking on a breath in response to that, he didn't hear Castiel add _I don't blame her_ to the end of his inebriated confession.

"She uh- she talked about us?" 

"Of course she did. They all did; Cassie, Layla, Carmen, Robin, Casey, Andr-" 

"Yeah I get the picture, thanks." Dean interrupted him, a slight burn of shame heating him up under the collar. He was quiet for a while before he realised how... _inconvenient_ that must've been for Cas. Hearing from his partners about all their intimate escapades.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that from 'em, Cas." Dean apologised as they exited the park.

Castiel simply hummed and crossed his ankles at Dean's hips, locking himself around Dean's body. Dean hoisted Castiel a little higher when he started to slip. He bit at his bottom lip, not being able to let go of how fucking uncomfortable it must have been for Cas to sit through their animations. Dean knew each of them. Knew how they would have gone into detail in their own way and smirked while the people around them ooohed and aaahed and suddenly he felt really fucking bad. He exhaled harshly.

Castiel unlocked his hands steadily and slid one palm up to Dean's cheek to pat at it lightly. "Stop thinking."

"You don't even know what I'm thinking about."

"I don't care. Stop."

"Fine. Talk about something. Distract me."

Castiel hmphed into Dean's neck. "I have to do everything for you."

"Course you do, 'cause you're a smart ass."

"...Yeah, that's true, I have got a nice ass." Castiel retorted and Dean shifted Cas a little, not denying the statement. Truth was, Dean had been in love with his friend since... well, since he knew what love was. He'd never admitted it though, always kept it buried under layers of distracting hook-ups and incessant flirting.

"What should I start with?" Castiel asked, speaking aloud to himself.

"Whatever, just don't go to sleep on me."

"If you're going to be like that then I'll start with your dick." Castiel replied casually. Dean did choke on an inhale this time. Castiel took no notice. In his inebriated, pliant state, he lay his head on Dean's shoulder and hummed.

"What about your legs?"

"What about 'em?"

"You're bowlegged, dumbass."

"No shit, Sherlock."

Castiel was contemplatively quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. "I don't think any one of them ever mentioned your legs."

"Yeah, why do you think that is?" Dean said, a little scorn seeping into his tone, as if the answer was obvious.

Castiel shrugged. "Is that not something appropriate to brag about?" Before Dean could interject with his own truthful answer, Castiel rattled off trying to answer his own question. "I mean, they're sturdy, they allow us to walk and I've seen yours in gym class, they're very tanned an-"

"It's because they're fucking deformed, Cas." He burst out, anger frothing just under the surface of his skin. He had never liked his legs, they always made him walk funny. He had been getting jabs about them since he could remember, nothing big, just insults thrown around here and there between groups of so-called "friends". When Dean brushed it off, they thought nothing of it. What they didn't know, was that he was immensely insecure about them, resorting to buying jeans two sizes too big to hide them.

"No, they're not." Castiel said quietly, only meant for the space between his lips and Dean's ear. He lifted his head to look at the side of Dean's. Dean's pace had slowed a little. He could feel the intensity of Castiel's gaze.

"Yeah, they are. My bowlegs are deformities. No-one's legs are supposed to look like that."

"You're wrong."

Dean laughter was full of hate. It's harshness hitting Cas' ears with a conviction he didn't like.

"Yeah, whatever you say Cas."

Castiel trailed a fingertip over the space under Dean's eye. "Then, I suppose you would argue that your freckles are-"

"Fucking flaws, yeah."

"And the dimples in your back?"

"Weakness in my skin cells." Dean could see their houses fast approaching and picked up his speed so he wouldn't have to deal with Castiel's insistence on making him feel better about himself.

"And the little scar across the top of your forehead that you think nobody's seen so you keep it covered with your hair?" Dean reached Castiel's doorstep just in time for him to finish the question. He set Cas down gently and tried to grab the doorknob in an attempt to not have to answer. But there Cas was, blocking his attempt. Eyes all wide and bright and impossibly blue, glossed over with the haze that only comes from alcohol, brows furrowed and pink lips parted, head tilted slightly, standing way too close and Dean's breath was coming quicker than it should have been.

"A mistake. Should've never happened." He admitted quietly.

"Would you say that to Sam?" Castiel asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Would you tell Sam that the bow of his lips was deformed?"

"Cas, that's not-"

"Or the constellation of moles on his shoulder blades were flaws?"

"Cas-"

"Or the dimples in his cheeks were _weaknesses_?"

Suddenly, Castiel slapped Dean's bicep in a burst of anger. "Ow! Jesus Christ Cas."

He stared at Dean for a few seconds before grabbing his hand and pulling him inside and up the stairs. Admittedly, it was harder than it should have been with Cas stumbling on the steps and accidentally knocking Dean into the doorframe but they got there eventually. He spun Dean around, placed an insistent palm against the centre of his chest and pushed until the back's of Dean's knees hit his bed. Not stopping the motion, he clambered straight onto the bed, into Dean's lap to straddle his thighs. They were almost nose to nose and Cas was looking at him with the force of a thousand hurricanes and if he said that that didn't turn him on _and_ intimidate him a little, he was lying.

"Why?" Cas murmured harshly, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Dean's.

"Why what?" Dean whispered. He was almost afraid to speak, instead distracted by their proximity and how if he leaned up a little, he could have a mouthful of Cas. Castiel's hands tangled in the back of his hair, one sliding around his neck, thumb and index finger reaching up to slide across the line of his jaw.

"You would not condemn Sam for his alleged imperfections, so why do you condemn yourself for yours?" Dean opened his mouth to try and reply but he had no answer. It didn't matter. Castiel wasn't finished.

"All I hear about from all these girls-" his murmur turning into a quiet, frustrated growl. "-is how green your eyes are or how full your lips are or how pullable your hair is." He punctuated by grasping the roots of Dean's hair and pulling down from the back so Dean's head tilted up and the column of his throat was bared to Castiel.

Castiel, it seemed, had other ideas. He ran the pad of his fingers down the expanse of tanned flesh available to him, fingers darting as if searching for something. He found it just underneath the bolt of Dean's jaw.

His pulse point.

Castiel held his index and middle finger against the steadily increasing beat as his gaze met Dean's.

"You think I don't know?" He murmured, anger no longer in his voice. Instead, he sounded sad.

"Know what?" Dean rasped, his chest pushing against Castiel's with every breath. Castiel leaned in, looking down at Dean with something akin to lust in his eyes. Using the grip he had in Dean's hair, he tilted his head slightly to the side to speak into his ear, his lips brushing the shell of Dean's ear.

"How you want me." Dean's heart picked up pace. He was pretty sure Castiel could feel it through the fingers he had placed on his pulse point. A small, smug smirk played at Castiel's lips.

"Openly laid out underneath you. Exposed. Willing. Imagine it, Dean." And Dean did. A stifled groan on his tongue and his heart thundering in his chest, his eyes fluttered closed.

"Are you imagining?" Castiel asked.

"Uh-huh." He shook his head as much as Castiel would allow him.

"All pretty and wrapped in lace topped with a neat little bow. You'd like wouldn't you?" Dean swallowed thickly.

"You think Rhonda hasn't told anyone about the silk panties she made you try on?"

"Cas, I-"

"And how you liked it? Begged for it? Is that what you want from me, Dean?" Dean spluttered and stumbled through coherency before Castiel laughed quietly as he pulled back and opened his eyes, sliding his fingers out of Dean's hair and away from his eyes. Completely retracting himself and sitting back on Dean's legs, hands folded neatly in his lap. He looked at Dean. Soaked up the sight of him, all red-faced, smiling, breathless and turned on too, if the situation in his pants was anything to go by. Just completely and utterly _debauched_. And Castiel hadn't even really touched him.

"You know what the most glorious thing is about my drunk little situation, Dean?" Castiel asked, tilting his head a little. There's a sadness in his eyes that Dean could not predict.

"What?" Castiel shrugged helplessly and smiles deliriously, haplessly... hopelessly, gesturing between them, before his next few words crumbled Dean's smile.

"I won't even remember any of this in the morning."

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested, my Tumblr is [here](http://prettyboydean.tumblr.com) :)  
> Drop me a message, tell me what you thought - I'd really appreciate it :)


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